


sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine

by ISlayedBuffy



Series: for the health of your heart [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Violence, but i promise to finish it in the summer when i have time!!, i just have a lot to do so who knows maybe i can't actually write more of this for a while, i promise i have not abandoned this!!, that's not even a spoiler that's the whole point of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:38:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9104983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISlayedBuffy/pseuds/ISlayedBuffy
Summary: Lena Oxton is willing to gamble with her own life to find and kill the notorious Widowmaker. She enlists the help of hacker extraordinaire Track to find her but things don't seem to be working out the way Lena had hoped (search - find - murder). Maybe it's for the best.Edit: I know it's now (early April) been a while since I've updated this but as said in tags I have not abandoned this I'm just a stressed uni student trying to pass my classes first hand and write fics later. I am still writing this, just very... slowly.





	1. there are so many things i'm not allowed to tell you

**Author's Note:**

> "we live our lives like they were not worth to love" - Keep on Dreaming by Little Jinder.

Her name was Amélie. That much Lena knew. It wasn’t much, but it was more than codename Widowmaker. No one seemed to know a lot about her at all, and the few details she had gotten confirmed didn’t make a huge difference. But she knew her name was Amélie, and she was dangerous which made it all the more endearing for Lena to seek her out by herself after the hit on Mondatta. The burning hatred had turned on itself and, as much as Lena hated it, turned into an obsession. She was going to find Widowmaker, and she was going to kill Amélie. 

“—which in turn only means that I’ll have to tweak the device slightly and it will be more stable and have more power.” Winston explained. Lena nodded though she hadn’t really listened prior to the conclusion. He looked at her with a grin from where he was sitting in front of the computer. She couldn’t help but to smile back at him. As soon as he turned back to look at the screen her supposed irrevocable smile faltered. She realized she was staring at him when her eyes unfocused and she drifted back to Amélie. Her conscience felt heavier than ever when the devil on her shoulder suggested the term ‘revenge’ to label her future actions. That’s what she wanted. Her want and need to seek out Amélie and kill (murder) her was in some part driven by the shooting of Mondatta. Somehow she felt (knew) like that wasn’t the whole reason. She was once again brought back to reality by Winston. She followed him when he stood up and walked away from the computer.

“You’ll have to take the spare one for now. It might feel a little unusual at first. It’s one of the older models.” Winston told her. “Just put the other one over there for now.” he added, holding the spare time device in one hand while pointing to the table. She took of the one she was wearing. While the devices always worked just by being around them it always felt weird (good) to take them off after wearing them for a day. Sometimes, when in the field, she’d have to wear them for longer and just switch quickly from one to the other so she could charge it. She took the spare time device from Winston and put it on. He was right, it  _ did _ feel unusual to be wearing this one. Maybe it was the way this model was built. Maybe the way it hadn’t been worn as often as the primary model she was using. Maybe it was just the thought that this was one of the first models Winston built for her. There were many of them in the beginning when he always found new things to add to the core or found new things that weren’t good enough. Hopefully he didn’t save all of the old and spare once, she couldn’t bear the thought of it being faulty - the thought of becoming her time ghost self again after so long. 

“Can you explain again what exactly you’re tweaking to make it better?” Lena asked. Winston glanced at her from the table he had walked over too, “Just in short.” she added with one of her iconic smiles. He tinkered for a second and she let him have it. He was doing so much for her all the time that she could let him have a moment before answering. 

“I’m adding a few things to the core.” he told her. She walked over to him and looked at what he was doing, waiting quietly for him to tell her more about what he was doing. A few moments passed without Winston telling her more about his so-called tweaking. 

“And?” 

“That’s it.” Winston answered matter-of-factly. “In short.” he answered. Lena chuckled. 

“Yeah, well, not to sound unappreciative but this model is very uncomfortable so the faster you ‘add a few things to the core’ the happier I am. Besides, I’m kind of in a rush.” she told him as she leaned against the table beside him though giving him enough space to move. She crossed her arms over her chest and immediately let them fall again. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like it was suppose to. This model was definitely a lot bulkier than her ordinary one. 

“You’re always in a rush, Lena. What’s so different about this time?” Winston asked. Lena’s face fell. She couldn’t tell him that she was meeting someone calling themselves ‘Track’ (a badly chosen codename in her opinion) to buy ‘fresh’ information on Amélie that they apparently had. Winston had the moral compass of the Shambali - no unnecessary violence. She wasn’t sure what he would be most angry about. Her killing (murdering) Amélie, or taking on Widowmaker on her own despite knowing what a risk it was. At the end of the day she knew it didn’t matter, either way she wasn’t entirely sure she would even succeed knowing now how hard she was to track (even if ‘Track’ might be able to). Her head was racing. She couldn’t tell him the truth and he would see right through her lies. She always ended up getting tangled up in her lies, they were never a skill of hers. 

“I uh— nothing. Nothing is different. Just your average Lena Oxton rush to go on with her life. A tragic side effect of being able to go very very fast at times. Even the fastest of things become slow. So, just. Yeah, nothing.” she explained, with a shrug at her last nothing. He didn’t seem convinced so the lack of follow up questions was a relief if she had ever known it before. 

“Well, this might take a little time so if you’re in an actual hurry I would suggest you just get used to your old model.” He told her. She stood up with a sigh and blinked a few times around the room. It felt slower than the newer one. Maybe she was making it up in her head, she couldn’t remember him ever mentioning the newer model making her go faster than the older. Maybe it was because it was bulkier (heavier) than the newer slimmer one. 

“Alright, I’ll just use this one for now, seems to be working fine. Give me a call when you’re almost finished.” she started walking towards the door. She was going to be late to the meeting. He nodded assuming she was looking (she was). She stood by the door for a few seconds, ready to leave, just looking at him work. She could feel her whole self warming up. Winston was in every sense of the word her best friend and it hurt her that she was going to have to lie to him a lot about what she was about to do, what she was  _ already _ doing. She was sure that he would figure it out eventually and try to stop her. A part of her  _ hoped _ he would try to stop her because lord knows she wasn’t going to stop herself anymore. She had passed the point of caring what would happen to her. She had passed the point of caring if she would survive. Passed the point of caring about anything other than killing (murdering) Amélie. If he didn’t figure it out, if he wasn’t going to stop her in time, then her heart would break. Because either way, if she would survive or not, she will have lost a part of him. She will have lost his trust, and she was sure of it. 

“I’m going now.” she announced, feeling her voice shake and hoping it wasn’t noticeable to Winston who was so caught up in his work on her time device, “I’ll see you later love.” She left quickly not caring if he told her good bye or not. She was late to the meeting with ‘Track’ and she wanted this over with. 

***

When Lena got to the agreed place she was meeting Track. It was a dark alley, and had it been any darker outside she wasn’t sure if she would be able to see anything at all. It was empty. Completely empty. She let out a disappointed sigh. People like Track weren’t ones to wait for late people like Lena. They were jumpy and wanted things done with. She sat down on the cold and wet ground, leaned against the concrete wall. It had been raining for days and when she looked up at the sky she could still feel a drop here and there land on her face. For a second she wished it would still be pouring down so she could just let it all go without anyone seeing. The frustration was getting to her, rising to her head and making her sloppy enough to still be in their meeting place where anyone looking for her could find her. 

“Tracer?” she heard a voice close to her ask. It was soft and kind. She locked up the frustration again so she could be her usual self. She opened her eyes to find an unfamiliar face pushed deep into the hood of a dark shirt hiding underneath the jacket they were wearing. She frowned, her forced smile not faltering, wondering if people this person's age still remembered people like her. If they still remembered the faces of the agents and not just their names and what disgraces people made them out to be. “You’re Tracer, right?” the person asked again. She stood up. 

“I am! Who might you be?” she asked more upbeat than she felt she would even be naturally. Now it was the hooded persons turn to seem confused, the frown on their face visible even in the darkness. It took Lena a moment to realize why they were confused. 

“I’m Track.” They answered just after she figured it out herself. Of course it was Track, how could she be so stupid. Her smile faltered slightly when she got more serious, when the situation got more serious. This might be it. Track might be it. Might be  _ the _ person who will lead her to her own demise. It felt like she was putting a revolver loaded with a single bullet against her head and it was up to Track if the she was going to fire nothing or shoot herself in head. It wasn’t Track’s responsibility of course. They just needed the money, Lena understood that.

“Do you want the information or not?” Track asked, their voice seething with annoyance. Lena had been nothing but an inconvenience so far. She nodded and Track handed her paper copies of everything, a rarity to find anything on paper anymore. 

“The money found you right I assume?” Lena asked, looking through the papers to see if she could find anything immediately interesting. Something that could be a break. Something that could be pulling the triggered to her demise. Everything about the transaction had been uncertain and reckless. They money had been handled by at least one middle hand and that Track even agreed to meet her was a miracle. For all she knew the money had ended up with Talon, Amélie’s agency if you will, and the information a scam. Nothing on the papers ever did pop into her face, nothing was immediately interesting. She felt the disappointment but tried to not let it show. Track had risked just as much as she had and she couldn’t show herself anything but grateful.

“Can you tell me anything about what is in here? Something you found especially interesting?” She asked. Track frowned again, narrowing their eyes, as if to scan her brain after hidden motives. A moment passed. Track shook their head.  

“Look, I did my part. I want nothing more to with this— this,  _ suicide mission _ you’re on. I don’t know a lot more than what’s in those documents and I can’t confirm any of them since they’re mostly classified document. There’s a lot of lies and misinformation spread even on official documents by these kind of people you’re chasing. You’re side does the same on their documents, trust me. I stand by it, it’s a suicide mission. I can tell you that much. This woman you’re looking for is…” Track took a second, looking down at the ground, before looking up again, “I don’t think this is her choice. I don’t even think she knows she has a choice. People who live like that don’t fear death. They do the job they’re told to do. I don’t even think people like her, people who work with organisations such as Talon, even have feelings to care with. I’ll think about you, see if I see you on the news. But I’m not betting on you. That’s what I can tell you.” Even the smallest of Lena’s smiles couldn’t force itself onto her face. Track had been completely honest with her and she regretted ever asking the question, ever asking  _ any  _ questions. Track took a few steps back before turning around slowly to walk away. 

“Wait!” she walk up to Track again. “Can I contact you in the future? Or are you out now?” Lena asked. Track had given her a piece of their mind no one had or could give her before. Winston surely would have done the same but as she had already established, she couldn’t tell him. Lena wasn’t sure if she would actually need Track’s help anymore, but she figured that, in any way she could make it happen, she needed  _ Track _ . The unidentified person Track who she knew nothing about and who probably knew more about her than she did herself. Track didn’t look at her, they looked out at people passing the opening to alley they were in. 

“I have nothing left to give you.” Track shrugged, “I doubt this ‘Widowmaker’, Amélie, you’re looking for will give away anymore traces right now. She’s been quiet since I started digging so maybe she realized she were leaving footsteps I could follow.” Lena stepped to stand in front of Track, her back against the street. 

“I trust you to be right about that. But you just gave me some piece of mind that would make some of my old friends want to clock you right in the face and that was… refreshing. You’re a new pair of eyes. I could use you. For a price of course. If you’re game.” Lena explained. Track seemed to contemplate the offer. She didn’t have a lot of money to offer, enough to make it seem tempting she hoped. As the seconds ticked by, Lena felt more uneasy about the alley, about having her back against the people walking by. Feeling uneasy about who could see them. She let some more tick before Track answered. 

“You can try.” Track simple stated. ‘You can try’. That was it? Lena felt the frustration bubble up again. Maybe she were to become one of those friends who would’ve given Track a black eye a long time ago. Her jaw hurt when she clenched it as Track walked by her. ‘You can try’. What a rubbish answer. She was about to turn around to say something to Track, shout something (abuse) after them, when the loud bang and familiar soar of a bullet could be heard. The screams from the street were drowned out by the static noise in her head as she saw Track fallen to the ground with blood gushing from the wound in their shoulder. She looked up at where the shoot should’ve come from and all the energy she should’ve gotten from seeing Amélie stand on the roof drained away by the fact that Track were laying on the ground dead (dying). Lena took a quick look at Track before looking up at the roof that was now empty. She took decision to not chase. Instead she fell down to her knees beside Track and turned them around. She didn’t understand what drove Amélie to disgusting acts like this. Her own hatred for Amélie was understandable, it was reasonable and quite frankly justifiable. Nothing Lena have heard or known Amélie to do seemed justifiable. The thought that maybe they were and Lena just couldn’t see the whole picture entered her mind and she quickly pushed it back and shoved it so far into a box together with her frustration that it would never see the light of day again. The situation she acted of was black and white. She needed it to be black and white.  

“Hey! Wake up! Look at me!” Lena half-shouted at Track, slapping them gently in the face. She had gotten training in what to do with comrades who had been shot, and she had had to use that training in the field more than once. That was a long time ago. She stood up and blinked out to the street. 

“Please! Help! My friend!” she told someone, anyone, everyone, before blinking back to Track. Her mind was still static noise and a second later she was pushed off Track. She didn’t make an effort to fight against it. She closed her eyes and let the still falling drizzle wet her face. She was going to hunt Widowmaker down, and she was going to kill (murder) Amélie. She swore by it, even if it was the last thing she would do. She swore that she would take down this machine of Talon, and no one would stop her. 

***

The bright lit room and white walls shone through her eyelids she had closed to get some rest in the waiting room of the hospital. Lena had insisted on coming with the ambulance there. She knew she couldn’t blame herself, Track sought her out not the other way around. Yet, the pangs of guilt in her heart came in waves as rhythmic as waves on the stormy oceans. Track didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this. Trying to get some rest was futile when the guilt made it hard to breathe. Track seemed like a decent person. Guilt, guilt, guilt. 

“Miss?” she registered a deep yet soothing voice. She drowned it out. She needed a moment before hearing she had caused someone's death (someone who didn’t deserve it). “Miss? You’re friend. The surgery is done.” the doctor (presumption) continued. She opened her eyes to show that she was now listening though she didn’t say anything. 

“She’s stable for now, but I uh— we’re… I can’t promise anything.” he told her. He seemed young. Maybe even too young for your average doctor in your average London hospital. She supposed that was why he seemed so nervous. He hadn’t given enough people bad news to be able to guess what they’re reaction would be. He hadn’t given enough people in Lena’s state to be able to guess that her face wouldn’t change. That the state she was in would not allowed her to feel anything major except for the heavy guilt. She just felt so much guilt. 

“Can I see them?” she asked. The raspiness of her voice surprised her. The doctor turned his head to glance at the time and gave her a weak smile when he looked back at her. 

“You should go home and get some rest. She is as I said stable but I doubt she’ll wake up for a couple of hours.” Go home? Home was a cold, badly decorated, apartment for two that she really only owned in case she wasn’t staying the night at someone else’s place. She would rather stay in the waiting room and see the red of her blood through her eyelids than go home and stare at the ceiling. Home had nothing to give her. She didn’t say anything to him. After a moment he walked away. 

She leaned her head between her knees. If Track died, she did not know how to go on. Sure, they didn’t know each other. Sure, they were no one’s to each other. But she didn’t know if she could go on. Everything bubbled to the surface when someone sat down on the chair right next to her and said her name in fascination. 

“Piss off.” she didn’t care if it was a fan, definitely didn’t care if it was an old friend. She kept her head between her knees in hope that the person would in fact piss off. They didn’t. She rubbed her temples before sitting up straight again. She didn’t know the person. The way they were looking at her made her feel uneasy. 

“What?” she asked. She had no energy to fight with. 

“Widowmaker sends her best wishes on your continued search for her. She’ll be waiting.” the woman (presumption) told her with a smile before standing up and leaving again. Lena’s heart raced. Amélie was a highly skilled marksman. She had time to aim her shot just right, past her head and at the shoulder of Track. It wasn’t an accident. She wanted to send a message to her and to Track, yet didn’t want to give up the game. Amélie wasn’t scared to meet Lena. Lena couldn’t tell if it was out of some French cockiness or out of spite for Lena herself. Either way, Lena knew she was stupid enough to probably be walking right into a trap. Only she didn’t care she was. This was more than Lena searching to kill (murder) Amélie. Amélie knew she left prints everywhere she went. This was a cat and mouse came, and Lena was the mouse. Not the cat. 

A caller left on the chair the woman (presumption) had sat rang. It wasn’t giving her a caller ID. She took a chance. 

“Hello?” she answered. 

“It’s wonderful to hear your voice again.” the oddly soft yet incredibly cold voice greeted her. Her blood became cold. It only took half the sentence for Lena to recognize Amélie’s voice. Part of her wanted to throw the caller away, throw into the wall. Part of her wanted to scream. One part of her, the part that she listened to, continued on with what would probably become a conversation. 

“I can’t say that I find yours as wonderful to hear.” Lena told her. No spite or anger or emotion at all slipping through in her tone. Yet.

“You hurt me,  _ Lena _ . I missed you so greatly and I hoped we would see each other soon but you don’t seem as… eager anymore.” Amélie laughed on the other end. 

“You’ve gotten that wrong. I’m eager. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to be last thing you ever lay your eyes on. And I’m going to  _ enjoy  _ putting a bullet through your head.” Lena explained, now hearing the anger seething through her voice more and more for every word she spoke in a hushed tone. 

“Such anger. What have I ever done to deserve such sweet revenge you seek?” Amélie asked. She was enjoying enraging Lena. On any other given day, on any other given moment, Lena wouldn’t let her get a rise out of her. This wasn’t one of those days, and not one of those moments. 

“I’m alive because you let me live. Why?” Lena asked. Amélie was quiet longer than expected, like she was deciding on a good answer. Why had she let Lena live? Maybe she didn’t know herself. 

“There are so many things I’m not allowed to tell you.” she answered simply. It wasn’t good enough for Lena. 

“Is Track a target? Am  _ I  _ a target?” 

“Naive little girl. Only time can give you the answers you seek.” Lena hung up. She sighed when she closed her eyes for a second. The rage was justifiable she told herself. It was justifiable damn it. She threw the phone at the wall when it was now the strongest impulse in her body. The ever present thought that she was taking this to the extreme, that this wasn’t justifiable and that she no longer was seeking justice but vengeance for something not done her, got the best of her. 

“Is there a problem here, miss?” a guard asked her after he had probably heard the shattering of the caller thrown at the wall. She shook her head. 

“I won’t be a problem. Sorry, sir.” she explained, exhausted. 

***

They doctors had let Lena sit beside Track as  _ she _ (presumption) woke up. She hadn’t woken up yet and an hour or so had gone by since they let her sit there. Lena had studied Track immensely while sitting there doing nothing else. She was… beautiful. Lena didn’t know any other word to describe her but beautiful. She had long red hair, the ends even redder because of the bloodstains, and she had even more freckles than Lena. She wondered who Track really was. What was her real name? Did she have any family? A real job, or could she simply live of the profit made from selling information and whatever else the job description had on it? Track was a mystery.

“Where am I?” Track asked. Lena hadn’t realized that Track was waking up and was caught off guard by the question. The guilt she was feeling hadn’t left her though the relief of Track waking up was louder and stronger than the guilt. 

“Hey.” she smiled at Track. “Ziegler general hospital.” Track looked around at the logos printed on different things around the room. She settled her eyes on Lena. She felt studied, like Track was looking straight into her mind. 

“You look like shit.” Track deadpanned. Lena laughed.

“I’m sure you have looked better too.” 

“Yeah, and felt better. Would I be correct in guessing it was yours truly who shot me?” Lena nodded. 

“I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve played a big role in you ending up here. But,” Lena began, “I want you to know that I’m not— I’m gonna keep looking. I’m finishing this. Whatever the cost. If you don’t want anything to do with this I understand.” she explained. 

“I get it. In this state I can’t promise I’ll be of any help but hey, I suppose this is personal for me now.” Track joked. “You want to take out the bad guy. It’s heroic. I’ll help if I can.”  _ Heroic _ ? Lena was many things. Just a few weeks ago she might have agreed with Track on heroic. Now she was many things, heroic not being one of them. She appreciated the word being used to describe her- However, it just made it all the more obvious to Lena that Track did know her and that she didn’t know Track. They shared a common enemy that made them partners. Not friends. 

“I’m sure I can get you a computer or something if you want it. This hospital being amazing and all aside, the nurses aren’t exactly entertainers and definitely not as tech savvy as you,  _ Track _ .” 

“Don’t insult the name. It stuck and now it’s a brand.” the redhead laughed. “I would love a computer though.” 

“I wasn’t insulting it! It just doesn’t sound very legit to hack and track people when you call yourself Track.” Lena defended herself, they were both smiling. 

“Alright,  _ Tracer _ .” Track shot back.

“Alright,  _ Track _ .” 

The smiles turned into laughter that lasted a few second. 

“You know, we both have real names. I don’t have to insult your brand if you tell me what your name is.” Lena suggested. Track’s smile faltered for a second but grew back, now looking more sad and exhausted. 

“I wish I could. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that…  I don’t trust you.” she shrugged. 

“Cheers.” Lena stood up and grabbed her jacket that she had hung on the back of the chair. “I’ll go get your computer. I’ll be back soon. Hopefully.” 


	2. you had not expected this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena and Track have a development on Amélie, someone is gay, and someone gets punched in the face several times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello it's a-me, matt! thanks for the kudos on last chapter, it's been an energy source. so, short info right now is that school has started again for most of us who are in school. i, myself, am a university student and i know i will have a lot to do this semester so i can honestly not even predict how long it will until the next chapter, though i want to try and promise to publish the last chapter for this part of the story before february ends but probably like in the beginning of february. we'll see. hope you enjoy the chapter.

She couldn’t tell how long the alarm had been ringing on her bedside table when she finally realized that it was in fact ringing. It had taken her some time to become conscious about her surrounding. The alarm could have been ringing for a few second, could’ve been an hour. She stretched her arm out from under the blanket to turn it off when she had, in some sense, woken up.

The room was cold. She wasn’t entirely sure, but it could even have been colder than usual. Her limited time spent in the apartment mixed with the broken heater had not treated the overall warmth of the apartment well as the autumn cold from outside made itself noticeable by just being close to a window. It could be fixed easily. She rubbed her face and braced herself before quickly getting out of bed, grabbing the clothes for the day and hurrying away to the shower. The day of fixing the heating or window problems would not be this day, as it had not been any of the previous days for the past months. Nor would it be a day in the near future.

She let the water run while staring at herself in the mirror. Lena Oxton. Alias Tracer. Her bed hair wasn’t as bad as usually she noticed. She stared a little longer, letting herself find joy in the freckles around her nose. The little things she told herself, it could be a good day if she focused on the little things. She took off her pyjamas and stepped into the stream of hot water, letting it burn her face and body, seeing how long she could last before having to run it a little colder. She didn’t know why she actually did it, why she had begun doing it just a few months back. She didn’t want to hurt herself, in a perfect world she wouldn’t want to hurt at all. She supposed somewhere deep down she did however understand people who hurt themselves on purpose. She understand the want to— no, the _need_  for something to really hurt. The need to _fucking obliterated_ oneself. Oh, how she wished that she didn’t know that somewhere within herself, she had that need, and how she wished that part didn’t show itself as clearly as when she wasn’t sure if it was the hot water streaming down on her or the feeling of someone pressing down on her chest was the thing to blame for it becoming harder to breathe.

She had to lean against the wall when her head started spinning. When she couldn’t focus her eyes on anything, not even the bottle of shampoo in front of her. If it weren’t for the taste of salt on her lips and the burning in her eyes she wasn’t sure if she would have noticed herself crying. She clenched her fist and pushed it against the wall as hard as she could. She could feel her whole body tense before she hit the wall, punching it like it wouldn’t destroy her knuckles. She didn’t care. Maybe it was what little obliteration she needed in the moment when her head stopped spinning so much and all she was left with was scalding hot water and the feeling like someone were standing on her chest. She stood up straight, letting what remnants of the tears left wash away from her face.

“Get it together.” she whispered to herself.

The rest of the shower was plagued by the same feeling of not being able to breathe properly, yet she did manage to get through it. She managed to fix her hair and get dressed. She even, much to her own surprise, managed to make something substantial for breakfast and get it all down without feeling sick, a rarity for as many months as her thoughts had been preoccupied by one thing. Amélie Lacroix. She couldn’t lie, Amélie was always in the back of Lena’s mind. The spite, the sheer _hate_ , for Amélie wasn’t. But not Amélie. Sometimes it was just her.

The weeks Lena had gotten to known Track had been… better, in a way at least. She felt better in a way. She pushed it out of her mind fast every time she had let herself think about it a little. She needed to not care about Track. Caring equaled a chance to lose something valuable. Losing her own life wouldn't matter. She didn’t believe in having to take care of anything after that. It would just end. Losing someone she cared about would matter. It would hurt and she would have to take care of those feelings.

As she was about to put away the dishes she could hear her caller from the other room. She hurried to it and smiled as she saw ‘Winston’ on the ID before answering the call. It was a relief to talk to him. Even though she knew it would be filled with lies and deceit he would never forgive.

“Hello.” she answered.

“Hi, it’s Winston. I have something interesting to propose.” Winston sounded excited. If it were another upgrade he would have to wait, she couldn’t stand the bulkiness of the other time device. Not now. She hummed her response, letting him have his moment anyways.

“It involves you and I and a marathon of ‘Miss Tollin’.” She couldn’t help but to grin at his proposal. It was tempting, she couldn’t say otherwise. They could watch ‘Miss Tollin’ for days, just the two of them as always. It was nice. It was tempting. She had to say no.

“I wish I could, Win. I just— I have plans. Things to do. Lives to save.” she laughed. She didn’t feel the laugh, simply added for the safety of the act she was in.

“We don’t save lives anymore, that’s why we have ‘Miss Tollin’ marathons.” he complained.

“I know. You’ll just have to ask someone else.”

“Someone else? Who exactly, other than you, do you think I have ‘Miss Tollin’ marathons with?” It was dead quiet between them as she went through her mind for anyone. All she could see in front of her with Winston, _ever_ , beside herself were other agents. She knew very well none of them had actually been to see him.

“Some other time. I promise you.” she answered.

“Fine.” he huffed. The feeling of not being able to breathe made it’s return. She swallowed, hoping it would somehow help.

“Maybe you shouldn’t stay at home today at all.” she suggested. “I can’t always be with you, and as much as I too love Athena she isn’t human. Not that you have to be. But she’s not a body, is what I meant.”

“Are you suggesting I need friends?” Winston laughed. “I’ll have you know I have friends. Loads. I just thought I’d make room for you tonight. And here you are, ungrateful about me making time for you.” she laughed.

“Very ungrateful indeed.” she agreed.

“I don’t ever hear you mention someone else either. I’m not the only one only talking to a limited perhaps three sentient beings in my life, now am I?” she didn’t answer, he already knew he was right. She shot up from where she was standing when her doorbell rang. Her heart racing.

“Hey, uh— someone’s at the door. I’ll call you back, alright?” she told him

“Don’t bother, I’m having my other friends over.” they laughed together before saying their real goodbyes and hanging up.

She grabbed one of her guns and hid it behind her back before looking to see who it was. They had covered the peephole. She knew that on a scale of one to insane, opening the door was of the chart. She let out a sigh of relief when the person at the door was only Track. The relief didn’t last long before confusion set. Track pushed past her and into the apartment.

“What are you doing? And what are you doing _here_?” she asked. Track put her finger over her mouth. Lena frowned. She trusted Track enough to follow the lead. She shut her mouth letting Track do whatever it was what she was doing. She seemed to be looking for something. She looked through places Lena wasn’t sure she had cleaned since she moved in. They locked eyes when Track stood looking as confused as Lena at the foot of her bed.

“I think it’s clear.” she threw her backpack on the bed.

“Sorry?” Lena asked.

“I think my place is bugged. Figured tons of people would want to bug me but I could only think of one client they would want to bug. That would be you.”

“Bug me? Why?”

“Why not?” They stared at each other. _Why not_.

“And?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. I mean, I’m not sure. I’m not even sure they’re bugging me. Whoever _they_ are.” Lena nodded.

“You’re paranoid.” Lena stated.

“Absolutely.” Track agreed. “But, would it… I mean, I understand if you say no and all, it’s fine if you’re sceptic, but would it maybe be okay if I stay here? Just while I make sure that I’ve debugged my place?” Track asked. Lena almost laughed. It sounded like a joke. It was an awfully bad joke, but Track had been so insistent on not leaving details about her life and limiting time together that the question could be nothing else but a joke. The more seconds went by the more Lena realized that Track actually wanted to stay at Lena’s place.

“Of course.” she answered, wondering if she should be scare. Not of Track, or perhaps that too, but because of Track _fleeing_ her own apartment. It didn’t seem like a good sign at all.

“Thank you.” Track smiled, letting out a sigh.

***

It had been three weeks since the shooting, so a stroll to get out of the hell that was Lena’s apartment wasn’t too much to ask of Track. It wasn’t their first walk in the park. Their meeting place in the park was consistent since Track refused meeting at either of their places before the whole bug thing, and Lena herself had not considered ever talking about the material over the phone. She wasn’t big on information security, it wasn’t her job, she just wasn’t stupid. Meeting in the park and taking a walk had just become what they did together. In the beginning, when Track was still fresh out of the hospital, they were slow and short. The healthier Track got the longer the walks got, though still as slow. As they got to know each other, the less the meetings became about Amélie and Talon and the more they became about the other. While neither of them revealed more than necessary about their lives Lena figured that what she didn’t tell Track she would find out herself eventually if she was actually curious. At the end of the day, Lena didn’t exactly keep secrets to begin with.

“Do you want to sit down?” Lena asked. Track shook her head. They had been walking for at least an hour and the question was asked more out of her own want to sit down for a minute.

“Can I ask,” Lena began, they stopped, “is this really what you do for a living? Can you actually sustain yourself on helping out with things like this?” she asked. Track sighed, looking down at her feet. Lena had wanted to ask before and her courage had faltered every single damn time. Possibility of dying in the omnic crisis? No problem. Hunting down the one person who is definitely out to kill her too? Walk in the park. Ask Track about her life? No way, no how. She had established to herself that it didn’t bother her that she didn’t know anything really about Track, what bothered her was her own cowardice to even try to get something out of her. A moment went by of Track seemingly thinking. Considering which lie to tell. Which excuse to give Lena instead of answering a question about her life.

“It pays well. I don’t get very many clients though.” Track answered, still looking down at her feet. Lena wasn’t satisfied with the answer. She didn’t know what she had expected.

“Is that a no? I mean, it’s not like it gives me any important information on you whether or not this a full-time job for you or not, right?”

“It doesn’t matter how much it gives away about me. You could ask if I have a cat and I would probably not give the answer. It’s a policy. I need it, so I don’t go around screwing up telling people details about my life. It’s a safety blanket if you will.” Lena clenched her fist for a second letting the frustration that she didn’t know where it came from just wash over her.

“Fine then.” she huffed. “From here on out,” she crossed her arms over her chest, still relieved to be back to her usual time device, “I’m not giving you any straight answers either.” Lena began walking away. Track laughed.

“Well, it’s hard to give me straight answers when you’re not even straight. Not that I mind, you’ve already pointed out I do exactly the same.”

Lena stopped and turned around. She closed her mouth when she realized that it was even open to begin with. Some part of her told her to defend herself. Tell Track she had gotten it all wrong, that Lena was as straight as they come. Why that part of her was still so strong she didn’t know. She wasn’t ashamed, and at the end of the day she could frankly not give a flying fuck about who knew. Perhaps she just didn’t like talking about herself that much, or she didn’t like people knowing about her in general. She couldn’t bring herself to lie. Not to Track. Track obviously already knew, so there would be no need to lie.

“Did you find that in my Overwatch files?” Lena joked, badly if she did say so herself. Track chuckled.

“Yeah, together with an extensive list of all the other queer agents.” Track walked up to Lena and they started walking together again. It was aimless and slow. “Couldn’t find a list of the straight once, guess there were none.”

“Oh, there were straight agents. Tragically.” They kept on walking.

***

“No, look, both scenarios make perfect sense. She knows we can figure out where she is so it doesn’t matter if she leaves the country or if she’s still here.” Track explained.

“And I’m not saying that’s wrong but distance is key here, okay? It’s not a matter of tracking her, it’s a matter of if she still _wants_ to be tracked or not. My guess is that if she wants to be hunted we’re not safe in London _at all_. I can’t let you stay here if it’s not safe.” Lena made her case unlocking the door to the apartment and walking inside, Track following after.

“I’m telling you, it’s not your decision to make. I’m in this now, remember? After all, you _need_ me. Where would I even go?” Track sat down on the disgustingly ugly couch.

“I _need_ you? Look, I can make myself a target without your help.” Lena joked. “I have a place you could go to. It wouldn’t be great but it would be something other than this.”

“Alright, well, I’m not going anywhere anyways so it doesn’t matter.” Track shrugged, opening her computer and typing fast instantly.

“‘You need me’. You’re so full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, you don’t have to be a former Overwatch agent to be full of yourself.” Track bit back. Lena felt it sting, yet couldn’t help herself from laughing. Laughing loudly from her stomach. It was the first really good laugh she had had in awhile. She hated it. She hated how Track made her feel... _good_.

Silence settled between them as Track concentrated on her computer and Lena on her guns. There weren’t a lot of maintenances to them and what little there were didn’t take as much time as she wished it did in that moment. She wanted to not have to talk. She wanted to be able to just think. Even though Track didn’t seem like she would want to talk Lena still felt like she _had_ to talk. She had to make conversation. Just say anything. She didn’t. She let it go, didn’t make conversation. Let the only sounds around them be sound from the street below, the tapping of Track’s keyboard, and the metal clinking from Lena’s guns. And so it were for an hour. Neither of them moved or spoke. Track let out thoughtful sounds once in awhile that Lena found oddly adorable. She wondered if she would find Track with her tongue out if she turned around to look.

“Oh, ah— fuck. Lena.” Track broke the silence. “I think we actually got a bit of a… situation right here.” Lena turned around to look. Track didn’t have her tongue out. She had a deep frown and looked at the screen in front of her.

“What?” Lena asked.

“I think— Like, call me crazy, but I think Amélie just… reached out.”

“Reached out?”

“It’s not a letter, it’s not a signed except by your regular electronic prints which is consistent to hers, but it has a time and place on it. No date so I figure it’s today.” Track looked up at Lena who had stood up and walked to stand beside the couch.

“What time and place?” Lena asked.

“Uh— 12, alley. Supposing it’s the alley she shot me in?” Lena nodded.

“Bye, honey, don’t wait up for me.” Lena said while grabbing her guns and jacket. She forgot her keys.

***

Lena got to the alley on time. She doubted Amélie put much weight into her being there on time. What did she know though, for all she knew Amélie would be in a particularly bad mood because of it. When she got there it was empty. The feeling of deja vu hit her. She looked up at the roofs and saw nothing.

“Are we going to do this or not?” Lena asked the darkness of the alley. Amélie was there, listening to her. Somewhere. She stood in the same spot for a moment, ready to leave and walk around the place trying to find her when she felt a hand grab her shoulder. Her reflexes set her into fight mode and she got ready to block an attack as she herself turned around to punch who she suspected was Amélie. Her own punch was blocked. Lena was right. Amélie chuckled as she made it seem effortless to avoid the following three swings Lena took.

“You rely too much on your guns. Did they teach you nothing?” Amélie laughed. Lena took another three swings, missing all of them. Lena drew her guns when Amélie backed off. She weren’t a trigger happy person and Amélie had moved and gotten on top of the roof before Lena was even ready to shoot at her. Lena ran out onto the street and up the first best case of stairs that hopefully led to the roofs somehow. When she got onto the roof it was empty. She looked over the edge down at the alley to make sure she was even in the right place. For a second she realized that they had ended up on a roof again. She let herself be let up there even though she knew Amélie surely had the upperhand here.

“Do you wish for death?” she heard Amélie ask from behind her. She didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of an answer. The smug grin on her face drew it out of Lena no matter how much she hated it.

“It doesn’t bother me. I had planned on walking out of her with your blood on my hands though so let’s settle this.”

“Very well.”

They were quiet and stood still, letting a few seconds fly by before Lena aimed her guns again straight at Amélie. She missed her shots as Amélie was already well on her way to kick Lena in her legs. She fell to her knees. The adrenaline pumped through her veins as she got up as quickly as her body allowed her, only to be met with the butt of Amélie’s rifle smashed against her face. She staggered backwards. She took aim again and shot. Her vision was blurred and knew even as she wasted bullets there were no way she would hit Amélie. Lena spit out the blood that started to fill her mouth.

“Why won’t you just shoot me?” Lena asked. Amélie chuckled again. Lena didn’t understand.

“You understand nothing about me. My reasons are not as clears you believe them to be, Lena Oxton.”

Lena took a deep breathe, spitting out some more blood, before taking a swing at Amélie, inevitably missing once again.

“I will not give you the satisfaction of the death you desire.” Amélie taunted, her laugh abruptly turning into what Lena could only interpret as a growl when she finally got one of her swing in as a punch to the face. She was punished by Amélie with another punch with the butt of the rifle to her face and one to the stomach. Lena fell to her knees again.

“I don’t want death. Death is not a satisfaction.” Lena told Amélie.

“Are you sure?” Amélie asked as she began walking away from Lena. She was defeated, and she couldn’t understand how Amélie had allowed her to be alive to even think that thought. That she had been defeated. Amélie stopped by the edge, turned around. Lena got up as quickly as she could, her whole body hurting. She blinked over to the edge.

They stood face to face. Lena had her guns ready, aimed straight for the face. Amélie had hers resting on her shoulder like this was just another day in the life of a Talon agent. Lena supposed that might actually be the case, what did she know.

“You need to look further than you have so far to understand.” Lena frowned. Why wasn’t Amélie doing anything? She could’ve died seconds ago and the only answer Lena got for aiming her guns at her face was a smug grin. Like Amélie knew something she didn’t. Maybe someone was behind her, ready to shoot her first. Maybe someone would be there to resuscitate her, or resurrect her for that matter. Heavens know what technology Talon had gotten their hands on.

She wanted to ask why Amélie wasn’t doing anything. Why was she just standing there? She let her arms fall to her sides and was met by a laugh from Amélie.

“Au revoir.” Amélie turned around, seemingly falling from the twenty storey building.

***

“Holy shit. You’re _alive_?” Track shouted when Lena walked through the doors to her own apartment. Her own old musty inhabited apartment smell had been replaced by… food? Good food? It didn’t matter.

“In a strange turn of events. No one died tonight.” Lena sat down, no, _fell_ down. Her legs failing her as the adrenaline rush left her. She was alive. For now. Track ran over from the table she had placed her computer.

“I know this has been a game to her all this time. I just didn’t realize that… I haven’t been the cat. This is some deadly cat and mouse game and I’ve been the mouse the whole time. I could have shouted into the void for all I care and she would’ve have found me.” Lena stared at the mirror in the hallway when she spoke.

“I—I don’t understand. What happened?” Lena didn’t understand the words. She registered them being said, she knew they were words and individually she knew what they meant. Together as whole sentences they seemed much like gibberish.

“She didn’t even try. I had my guns on her. Basically point blank. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to kill me I think. That’s what I don’t get. What does she gain from not killing me?” Lena kept on speaking to the mirror she saw herself in. Her face was dirty, blood staining her jacket and her face.

“Let’s uh— let’s get you cleaned up, okay? You look like absolute shit.”  



	3. you want to die for love, you always have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tears are shed, blood is spit into someones face, and maybe the French bastards motives aren't what they seem to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said before february ends and boy do I push the limit on that one. So, firstly I want to admit an honest mistake in the previous chapters. I've called Tracers lil' thingy a time device, which isn't wrong per se, however, I watched her origin story video for the first time since like idk?? it was released?? and had honestly totally forgotten in was called chronal accelerator. Not sure if I'm going to go back and edit that or not. 
> 
> Secondly, this is objectively probably as Yikes as Lena's kitchen chairs. 
> 
> Thirdly, as a treat if you're sticking around with me for this ride I thought I'd actually release my playlist I use when writing this. The songs on it are in someway or another relating to my view and vision of the story. Thought it might be a nice lil' thing idk if it is. https://playmoss.com/en/islayedbuffy/playlist/for-the-health-of-your-heart
> 
> Lastly, and probably most important to the story right now is that I'm not abandoning it. I love this, and I love what I have in mind for it. That being said I have a lot of work to be done for school and mental health is a thing and it just takes it's time. I'm gonna take a small break of planning part two before I start writing the next chapter. 
> 
> That's it from me - hope you like the last chapter of part one.

The smell of coffee filled up the whole apartment together with a suspicious yet most welcomed warmth. For a moment she wondered if she had woken up in a hospital, then she wondered for an even  shorter moment if it might be heaven though she wasn’t sure that was an actual thing (Zeigler general not didn’t count). Lena winced when she wanted to rub her eyes, forgetting what she had let her body take the night before. The wincing led to the ache in her abdomen to worsen. Seconds went by of Lena being as close to paralyzed she had ever felt from the pain of the mistakes she had made, and would continue making in the future. That these were mistakes worth repeated she had decided in the foggy haze of pain she walked through on her way home, steadying herself against walls and lamp posts trying to not fall to the ground and pass out right there. No, this was  _ definitely _ not heaven. Not even close to it. 

“Oh, you’re awake. Incredible.” Track sounded… excited? Energetic? Well-rested? Lena wasn’t sure, if it even mattered to begin with. She couldn’t remember all the details from the night before, she did however remember not getting to bed on her own. And she remembered not cleaning the blood of her own cheeks. And she remembered not changing out of her clothes on her own. She remembered Track doing it all. She couldn’t understand how anyone could be excited or energetic or well-rested after that. 

“I’m not sure yet.” Lena answered, her voice raspy from sleeping, smiling at Track when she sat down on the other side of the bed. “I might be dead.” 

“You’re not, tragically. I had already started planning how to decorate your apartment when I inevitably would have had to buy it after your tragic death to begin the mourning process of the late Lena Oxton.” Track sipped on something from a cup, the coffee the apartment smelled of Lena guessed. She followed the movements. Both of Track’s hands placed around the cup to be sure not to spill any of the hot liquid in bed. Lifting it to her mouth and  _ slurping _ . Lena cringed. Moving her hands down to her lap. Maybe to let the liquid spread its warmth through the cup to her knees. 

“It’s rented.” Lena told her while trying to sit up. 

“Bummer. How am I supposed to mourn you now?” Track asked. 

“Like any other rational human - drink yourself reckless and cry yourself to sleep.”

“Is that how you do it?” The question hung between them while they stared at each other. Lena took a deep, long, breath and licked to her already painfully dry lips. 

“I don't have anything to mourn. If I did, though, that would be my way of doing it.” 

“You know, I want to give you the benefit of the doubt on that one but I can't do it. It's such bullshit.” Track laughed. Lena offered a weak smile. 

“If it is bullshit then maybe it's because I don't want to talk about it.” Lena followed along, her smile not leaving her lips. She had broken their eye contact seconds ago to look at  _ anything _ other. Track’s hands around the cup continued to be as interesting as before. 

“So, what’s the next step? You’ve gotten yourself beaten up pretty badly. Are we still doing this or have you had enough?” Track asked. Lena thought about it. It was tempting to just say that she had in fact had enough. That this was no fun anymore and she’d rather just stay in bed with her pain (and Track) for the rest of the year, for the rest of her life. It was all so tempting to not give Amélie the same pain with her bare hands. 

“Well, I can’t put up a fight like this, can I? I’m going to recover, take it easy, live my life for however long I’ve still got it somewhat intact. Then—” Lena paused. She wasn’t sure which answer to give. “Then I don’t know. By then I might have changed my mind. I’m not going lie and say that I’m not scared, that would be  _ actual  _ madness. I’m just not sure that fear is going to stop me. It didn’t before.” 

“Actual madness? As opposed to whatever it has been up to this point?” Track laughed. Lena nodded, a laugh escaping her too. 

“Oh, right, you got a call while you were out shopping.” Track began, slurping ( _ fucking slurping _ ). Lena frowned. Partly out of sheer annoyance, partly because she could quite understand what Track was talking about.  

“Yeah, look, I’m not going to answer someone’s caller and say they’re asleep. That would give the impression that we’re having some sort of relationship, and honestly in what world would I ever be more than an emotionally uninvolved work partner with someone sas stupid as you?” Lena huffed as an answer to the joked.

“Anyway, the message from Winston was that someone had tried or succeeded to hack through all of Athena’s security protocols, didn’t quite catch which way it was, and he wanted you to pay extra attention to your already kicked ass. A personal interpretation of the message if that wasn’t clear.” The frown on Lena’s face was back.

“Was it you?” Lena asked. Track shook her head.

“Any ideas?”

“Sure. But I one, do not have evidence enough to be certain that I’m right and two... I don’t want to be right on this one. If I’m right, well then, we’re actually kind of in big trouble. I can’t be sure on anything if we’re up against who I think we’re up against.” 

“The two things I care about right now is your safety and Amélie.” Lena said sternly. Track snickered. 

“What?” 

“I— you know what, nothing. Some other day.” Lena let it go, shrugged it off, before slowly she tried to get out of bed. Track watched it happen as if it was some obscure kind of art. This piece would be called something like ‘the pain I carry is nothing but self-inflicted’, though in hindsight, a few months or so in hindsight, it would come to be called ‘the bruises on my body are just as wicked as our love’. 

Eventually, Lena got out of bed to find that her caller wasn’t were it used to be. Of course it wasn’t. How would Track know that it was neatly placed at the same place every time to avoid having to live with the insecurity of not knowing where her things are around the flat. She sighed and turned around as much as she could from where she was standing, leaning against the desk.

“Where’s my caller?” 

“It’s in the kitchen. I’ll get it for—” 

“No, no, it’s fine I’ll get it myself.” Lena interrupted, not sure herself if it were out of some unconscious hatred for the caller not being in the right place or because of some stubbornness that she could damn well get to the kitchen by herself. She stopped in the doorway. 

“Did you tell him anything of what has happened?” Lena asked without turning around to look at Track who was still sitting in her bed. In Lena’s bed. 

“No. I figured the less I talked the less there is a chance I say something stupid.” Lena closed her eyes and smiled at Tracks respons. Of course she hadn’t said anything. She wasn’t stupid like that. Lena steadied herself against the wall, walking slowly to the kitchen. Even though it was just past the bathroom it felt like it took her ages to get there. She sat down on one of the two objectively ugly chairs she had placed around the small kitchen table before picking up the caller and tried to get a hold of Winston. It only took a few seconds for him to answer.

“Hello?” Winston sounded scared in a way Lena had never heard. In a way Lena could not even have ever imagined a guy his size could possibly sound. 

“Hey, it’s me. It’s Lena. Are you okay?” She asked.

“Of course. I suppose you got my message I gave your friend?” 

“Yeah. Do you have any ideas who it could be?” 

“I uh— no. Or well, I suppose I’m no small target so there are a few who should be suspected. But no, I don’t.” Lena nodded, knowing very well he couldn’t see her. She didn’t know what to say. She had begun something that could very well have now started to affect Winston too. She had to tell him. He had a right to know how much she had, for a lack of a better word in the haze her mind struggled through, fucked up. She had fucked up immensely. And now she had to live with the real life repercussions of that. She would feel it in her abdomen, in her face, in her body in general. And she would have to feel it in her soul, in her heart, in her head, when she would have to hear and see Winston’s disappointment. 

“I—” she began. “Can I come by?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t care. Can I?” Winston sighed heavily on the other side. 

“You’re always welcome. You know that.” Lena bit her lip to stop it from trembling. She could feel the familiar burning sensation in her eyes. 

“Yeah. I know that. I’ll see you then.” She told him, and felt the foggy haze in her mind let her space out when Winston said his goodbyes for now. She had truly fucked up. 

“We’re leaving.” Lena told Track, half-shouting. 

“We?”

“Yes, we. Get ready, I want to do this quickly.” 

***

“Where exactly are we going?” Track asked. The adrenaline of what she was about to do held Lena’s beat up body up well enough for her to walk in a steady pace.

“Gibraltar.” 

“As in  _ watchpoint _ : Gibraltar.” 

“Yeah, as in we’re going to see Winston.” Track stopped the second Lena said it.

“Is that a good idea?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Everyone keeps asking that. I don’t know. I’m not sure I care. I started this, he has a right to know.” Lena explained.

“Sure. But I meant is it a good idea to bring me there? I’m your most valuable asset right now, and while I now do have my personal vendetta in this,” Track began walking again, “I’m still just a mere fragile tech savvy civilian. First we have to get there, which, woah, can you spell dangerous right now?  _ Especially _ in this sketchy place” she gestured around them, pointing out what Lena already knew about the abandoned warehouse. “Secondly, I doubt he will want me there if you’re planning on telling him what we’ve been up to. Thirdly, you should’ve just told me silly. You’re acting so mysterious. It’s weird.” 

“ _ I’m  _ acting mysterious? You won’t even give me your name.” Lena laughed, abruptly stopping when the pain in her abdomen felt like someone stabbed her once again. Track looked concerned but neither mentioned it. 

“Fine, you want to know my name? My real name?” Track asked.

“Yes! Aren’t we pretty much friends now,  _ partner _ ?” Lena joked.

“No.” Track shook her head, the smile showing itself on her face. 

“What’s your name then?” Lena asked.

“My name,” Track took a deep breath, “my name is a secret, Lena, I’ll tell you when I’m ready, okay? This isn’t a game. Sure,  _ maybe _ we’re friends but this is still new. I have to protect myself. Now more than ever.” Track told Lena, the smile gone and a seriousness in her tone. 

“I should just hire someone else on the side to find out.”

“Yeah, or you could just wait patiently and I’ll tell you.” 

“I don’t have patience right now. I don’t have time to put down into it.” 

“I thought you were a fan of the shambali? Aren’t they all peaceful and calm? Have you not learned anything?” Track laughed.

“Yeah, but I—” someone walked passed them bumping hard into Track. 

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” Track shouted after them. The person stopped and turned around. Lena stepped in front of Track, handing her her caller. She didn’t have much time to think, but the one thought that struck her was how insanely not aware they were. How had they been so wrapped up in the conversation that they didn’t notice they were walking straight into annoyance personified. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. They took the risk of the long route to the rogue portals, the one by the warehouses. 

“Take this. Get to Winston. Go. Quickly.” Lena told Track who was frozen on the spot.

“You’re big monkey friend help you now. You’re in London. He’s in the ruins of your precious Overwatch.” The person, specifically Amélie La-fucking-croix, sneered at Lena. 

“He’s  _ not _ a monkey. And I don’t need his help, I can take you down all by myself.” Lena knew how wrong she was. So did Amélie, making it obvious how wrong Lena was with her laughter. 

“Let’s get this over with.” Amélie said. Lena barely had time to react before the knuckles of Amélie’s fist was headed for her face, barely dodging the swing, though getting caught in the next hitting right after but not in the face instead right to the stomach, punching the air from her lungs out of her. She wasn’t even just wrong about being able to take on Amélie now. She had been since the beginning. Lena was a pilot, and knew how to work her guns. But this? Fist fights with someone probably more than ten centimeters taller than her and definitely more flexible than she. Sure, she had the “advantage” of her chronal accelerator, even if that had with some trial and error shown to not actually help that much. Or so her bruises told her. 

“That’s a low blow.” Lena joked, trying to catch her breath. Amélie didn’t seem to find it the least bit amusing as proven by Lena not having time to catch her breath before another punch was headed her way. She caught Amélies fist right before it was about to it her face and fell to one knee trying to stop the force of that while catching her other fist. The tall French woman hovering over her with all power she could muster. Lena knew she didn’t have a chance. Yet, she tried. There was nothing else she could do. It was either try or die. 

Amélie kicked her in the chest, right on her chronal accelerator. Lena cursed herself for not bringing her guns even when she had a target on her back when she landing hard on her back. She could feel the kick right through it. When it started to glitch and fade in colour the fear for her life was no longer just from Amélie beating her to death, it was again, after so long, that she would just disappear in time and space. Lena could under no circumstances say that she had ever had use her fists in a real fight during her legit war times. Dual-wielded guns were kind of her thing when she wasn’t piloting a plane, now she had no other choice than to trust her body and use her fists. She would have laughed at herself for such stupidity if it weren’t for the fact that Amélie was basically sitting on her. If not… god, she  _ really _ was stupid. 

“Any last words?”

_ Any second now _ . 

“Yes.”

_ Just a little longer _ .

“You forget that I’m a ghost, love.” Lena smiled, glancing down at the time device that kickstarted on the new and improved auxiliary powers Winston had installed in case of emergency (every day situations). Before Amélie could react Lena was already behind her to punch her with as much power she could muster. She wanted to finish this, and if she had to do it with blood all over her then so be it. 

Even though they were both definitely about the average skill level in physical fighting their punches weakened after each time, becoming sloppier the more punches they had to take, placed in all the wrong places. Lena didn’t manage to block the one punch that could be the winning punch. The K.O. With a flat hand Amélie managed to punch Lena’s jaw upwards, and she could taste her mouth fill with blood. Too delirious to manage another punch Amélie had gotten the upperhand and they were now both on the ground again. Amélie on top of Lena with her hands around her wrist. Lena spit out the bloodin her mouth upwards into Amélie’s face, who tightened the grip around Lena’s wrists. The more she tried to get out of the hold, the harder she could feel Amélie’s hands around her wrists. 

“Do it then! What are you waiting for?” Lena shouted, more blood from her mouth flying up into the French bastards smug face. The question was met with a long silence and Lena could feel tears burning in her eyes just the second before they started running down the side of her face to the ground. She wasn’t sure if she was making it up in her but she could swear she felt Amélie’s grip weaken, thought it was still tight. 

When she tilted her head to spit out the blood filling her mouth to the ground, Amélie released one of her wrists to grab her face. A second went by of Lena screaming at her body to work. Do something damn it. The shouting at the herself got louder in her head until Amélie kissed her. Her head went quiet. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stick around for part two: 'i swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth'

**Author's Note:**

> My began/finished ratio of fic series is disgustingly bad so I'm sorry if you like this and I somehow end up not updating. I do however really have a vision for this and I'm eager to tell you guys this story so hey maybe leave me some inspirational kudos and subscribe so you know when I update. Hope you liked it.


End file.
